Memories of a Eurasian Spy
by Kidscomix
Summary: M/M fanfic. Sharing his stories of being a spy, former French/Chinese agent reveals his time at Downton Abbey where he masquerades as a servant and becomes involved with underbutler Thomas Barrow. As the two become heavily involved with political espionage so does their relationship. With the changing political climate, will these two ever find a way to forge a future together?
1. Chapter 1

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please be aware this is a male on male romance fanfiction story set in Downton Abbey. If this subject matter offends you, please do no read any further. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_

* * *

_From the notes of reporter Roland Carlisle of the British Courier_

**Paris, 1971**

Perched near the arrondissement of Paris of Rue St. Benoitand and the Boulevard of Saint-Germain exists the popular local eatery and bakery of Café Etienne Marchand. Established in 1943, after the end of World War II, the restaurant has been the hotspot destination of both tourists and locals for its exquisite historical collectibles and artwork displayed inside and for its amazing food prepared by the finest pastry chefs and gourmet cooks. Everyone from British royalty, political figures, the wealthy elite and famous movie stars have graced Café Etienne Marchand with their presence over the decades but none could be more recognizable than the owner, the infamous Eurasian spy, Gao Etienne Marchand.

A double agent for the French during both World Wars, Gao Marchand is now seventy years old, his brownish black hair now turned snowy white, his dark eyes exhibiting a sadness while the wrinkles of his face display a kind of old age wisdom and intelligence of the adventures he has lived through and experienced. Sitting near the corner window of the restaurant, he wears a tanned suit made of expensive tweed as he sips on his cup of expresso and offers me a piece of his crème brulee cake.

I taste the confectionary placed on a beautifully, ornate china dish as a wave of euphoric sensations explodes inside my mouth. The dessert is absolutely delicious.

"The secret is the right amount of flour and sugar," Gao Marchand smiles as he speaks with a mixture of French and British dialects in his voice. The former spy is a multi-linguist, being fluent in Mandarin Chinese, French and English. Such capabilities obviously proved beneficial especially during his days of espionage but all Marchand wanted to share at the moment was the topic of cooking ingredients. "Add to it the typical components of crème brulee from the light vanilla custard and caramelized sugar and you have a masterpiece waiting to be unveiled."

I take note of his insight. The seventy year old gentleman was fascinating. The Eurasian had been the topic of several news articles, novellas, and even possible film and television works. None of which he granted his permission to use his story. I pull out a BBC television ad from my messenger bag that displayed an upcoming, unauthorized tele-film based on his life to which the former spy scoffed and laughed at the production studio's audacity.

"Such gossip, trivial garbage," he snorts. "I've seen all of the fictional rubbish they made of my life and it always makes me laugh at their comical attempts."

"Then why did you agree to finally share your story with me?" I ask him. It was true. After Gao Etienne Marchand had served his time in prison for being a French spy, he moved to Paris and began a quiet life as a café owner. The enigmatic Eurasian had been given many offers including a book deal from several media outlets but he refused every one of them and instead focused on building his business. To this day, the former spy once named _hu die papillon_, a play on of Chinese and French for butterfly, has not told his story until now.

Gao Marchand grins before he answers. "I read your article in the British Courier concerning the McGurk's Bar Bombing and the UVF culprits involved. I appreciated the fact that you remained objective and told both sides of the story instead of weighing in your personal opinions on the matter. Not many journalists can do that."

Once again, I agreed with the café owner. Attempting to provide fair and impartial news to the public can be quite a challenge and I often came into many conflicts with my editor regarding the matter but still manage to have my stories published for our national publication. When Mr. Marchand specifically requested me to interview him for his story, I jumped at the opportunity and flew from London to Paris to meet with him. Now sitting a few inches away from the famous spy with my tape recorder positioned near the edge of the table, I could not wait to listen to what he had to say.

"There have been many speculations about my life," he smiles while sipping on his expresso. "Some are true and others are falsehoods told to promote the fairy tale idea of espionage. I am now at the age where I no longer need to fear repercussions since many of my enemies are now dead and gone."

I cock my head a bit. "You were fearful of your life?"

"Of course," he nodded. "I was a double agent for France, England, China, and Germany. Naturally, in this line of work, you're bound to betray God and country to suit someone else's needs."

I probed him further. "Then why even be a spy if you disagreed with the politics of it all."

Marchand sighed for a few minutes before answering. "It wasn't as if I had a choice. However, the things that I've done have made me regretful and ashamed and by revealing my story I believe I can finally atone for the sins I've committed."

I decided to ask him about religion. "Do you believe in God, Mr. Marchand? Forgiveness and redemption?"

He stops to ponder the question and then speaks. "For a time I didn't but after seeing love ones go, I can't help but look to a higher being for salvation. I pray every night that God understands my sins and shows mercy with His judgment."

Wise words coming from a man who has refused every reporter except for me; I happily display my gratitude for meeting with me by hanging on his every word. He seems to enjoy the company as sips from his cup to drink before his dark eyes plead to me for compassion before returning his expresso back to the saucer.

"If I tell you my story, Mr. Carlisle," Marchand starts off. "You must promise me that you will change all names and circumstances regarding all parties during this interview. Even though the people involved have all passed away, their families still are very much alive and might be harmed by the revelations that I am going to share. Some of them are quite wealthy and influential and such a scandal might showcase a negative light on their reputation."

I adhere to his requests and make a solemn vow to alter the names, places, and events that took place during Gao Etienne Marchand's time. Placing my hand to the tape recorder, I pop open the cassette, turn it over, and press record.

Gao Marchand folds in his hands, places them in front of him on top of the table, casts his eyes down and begins to speak.

"This is a tale of betrayal, tragedy, courage, and love." He began. "It starts in the small Chinese village of Huaxi and ends with the discovery of romance in London's Downton Abbey."

"What romance do you speak of?" I ask with fascinated curiosity.

"More than a romance. It was real. It was love. Your typical cliché of a love that dare not speak its name involving two men. Me and an underbutler named Thomas Barrow."


	2. Chapter 2

_**From the recorded interview of Gao Etienne Marchand**_

_Long ago, there existed the fairy isle of Mount Penglai where eight immortal deities oversaw all good souls and granted them permission to live in paradise for eternity. One of the immortals, Anqi Sheng, had a beautiful daughter named Huang who fell in love with a mortal servant named Feng. After Huang offered her hand in marriage to Feng, a jealous rival for Huang's affections, the demon known as Yaomo murdered Feng and forced Huang to marry him. In her grief, Huang transformed herself into a great bird with a long tail made of flame. Feng's restless spirit wandered the Earth hoping to reunite with his lost love. Taking pity upon Feng, Anqi Sheng transformed the servant's ghost into a bird as well. Feng and Huang searched the world hoping to find each other and eventually reunited becoming an entity reborn. The Fenghuang. The phoenix. Rising from the ashes of death, the Fenghuang flies across the Earth watching over tragic lovers and guides them together back to Paradise._

This is one of the favorite stories Mother would tell me and my twin sister, Lian, as we retired to bed every night. Curled up within the cotton covers and feeling the shove of Lian's bare feet against my back, Mother would scold us for our sibling rivalry and remind us to display a familial love and support for one another. It wasn't that I didn't love my twin but our gender differences and our competitive nature for Mother's affections did put us at odds. However, Mother also knew how to put our feelings at ease as she equally exhibited her shared love between us with a peck on the forehead or an instant embrace. As our mediator and a fierce lioness, the Chinese woman shielded us from the troubles of the world that forever was constantly changing.

It had not been easy for Mother. Born in the small village of Huaxi, China in 1881, Yun Jiang had grown up as the daughter of a poor, local farmer and a school teacher. Despite having nothing, Yun was very intelligent and her mother's teachings assisted her in learning both her native Mandarin tongue as well as French. This skill allowed a young Yun to act as a translator for various foreign dignitaries as they came to China hoping to conduct business. Mother spoke on behalf of both parties, got paid a small stipend to which her father greedily pocketed. In time, she grew up to be beautiful woman with many prospective suitors coming to her asking for her hand in marriage but Yun's father turned them all away and instead offered his daughter to another candidate. Lord Kao Ni-hun.

At forty years old, Lord Kao Ni-hun was the wealthiest titled landowner of Huaxi. He owned and operated several factories and took control of over five hundred acres of land which he rented to the local farmers. He was also spoiled and entitled. Mother referred to him as the ugly gorilla for he was quite unattractive in the face and was covered in complete body hair. Lian and I would constantly laugh at her reference but inwardly Mother knew the man was quite powerful and influential and brought up such sadness in her life.

"The ugly gorilla got always what he wanted," she would say with deep sorrow. "And what he wanted was me."

He had two wives each of whom bore him six daughters between them but with no male heir to claim his fortune, he decided to take on a third wife. The ancient practice of keeping concubines among the wealthy was not uncommon and my poor mother became another victim of Lord Ni-hun's lustful urges. According to her, Lord Ni-hun discovered her alone in one of the farming fields, forced himself on her, and got her with child. Then he went to my grandfather, made an offer of marriage, and bought the poor girl for a large sum of money. Left dishonored and alone, Mother became Lord Ni-hun's third wife and was sent to live in his large estate along with his other spouses.

Life in the Ni-hun household was not idyllic. The pecking order by which the wives were treated definitely showed in the status of each of the wives. First Wife had full control of the household, the servants, and the other spouses and she made it known in her disapproval of Mother. She would force her to perform menial chores around the estate along with the other servants and relished in her delight at tormenting her.

Second Wife was not any better. Jealous of Mother's unique beauty, she purposely did things to her that included hiding articles of clothing or breaking a dish in order to blame Mother for her clumsiness. Whereas Mother had an angelic, heart shaped face, perfect symmetrical eyes, and long, black hair that felt like soft silk, Second Wife reminded her of a rat faced gargoyle that stood perched on the top of the roofs of many of the Taoist temples. Both women were horrible to Mother but she managed to endure her mistreatment and bear the Chinese lord a male heir.

My brother Zhuang Ni-hun was born on October of 1898. Though Lord Ni-hun became overjoyed with finally having an heir to his fortune, the status by which Mother was treated had not changed. First Wife proclaimed herself the true mother of Lord Ni-hun's son and coveted him while she and Second Wife continued to mistreat her while under the landowner's roof. Depressed and losing all hope, it appeared that Mother was cursed to live her life as a slave within the rich man's household. That all changed when a foreign stranger came to China. This man would forever change her life.

My father. Marquis George Marchand.

Born the French nobleman of the House of Marchand of St. Gerard, France, Marquis George came to Huaxi to conduct business with Lord Ni-hun concerning the expansion of landownership and growing tobacco crops at an affordable price. Mother said the moment he saw the blue eyed, blond haired, regal gentleman she instantly became smitten with him. The two began a secretly whirlwind affair for two years until events that changed the course of China would force the lovers to flee the country and return to France where both Lian and I would be born.

* * *

By the 1900's, China was in a state of decline. After European countries from England, France and Germany took over control of businesses and sea ports of the nation, an uprising of the Chinese people began to take place which caused a conflict among their foreign invaders and the residents of the country. Within the sphere of severe drought, economic disruption, and Christian imperialism, the people of China finally had enough and began to wage war on anyone of European descent and their allies.

The House of Lord Ni-hun was one of them. According to Mother, the Boxer Rebellion led by members of the Society of Righteous and Harmonious Fists attacked and murdered European businessmen and any sympathizers of their enemies and made their way to Huaxi in 1901. The Boxers attacked Lord Ni-hun's estate and the lands surrounding it. Lord Ni-hun was killed as were the First and Second Wives and their children. The servants were raped, tortured, or murdered. Mother and the Marquis George managed to escape the melee but sadly my older brother Zhuang did not as he was flung from the top of the highest peak of the house to his death by a Boxer rebel. Mother witnessed it firsthand and refuses to speak of it with good reason. It's horrifying enough to watch your home burn to the ground but to watch your firstborn child being murdered by crazed zealots proved to be quite traumatic. She rarely mentions Zhuang in passing.

Marquis George traveled with Mother back to France where she became his private mistress and lady's maid to his mother, the Marchioness Camille Marchand. Marquis George's wife, Lady Isabelle, had died of cholera leaving behind a son, Alain. The marriage had been of convenience and even though the marquis was a widower and free to marry again, he could not wed Mother due to the fact that she was another man's concubine and of the common class. Even still, Mother bore him two Eurasian twins 1901, myself and Lian, and we were raised with so much love among the lord's family and servants at the House of Marchand in the village of St. Gerard, France.

* * *

I was born in December of 1901 at nearby hospital of St. Gerard, France. Along with my twin sister who I am the older by ten minutes, our parents gave us both Chinese and French names. Mother named me Gao meaning handsome while the marquis named me Etienne after his cousin. My sister was given Lian from the word meaning good while our father bestowed upon her the French name Simone. Thus, I became Gao Etienne Marchand and my sibling was Lian Simone Marchand. A merger of two different worlds, Lian and I became inseparable as we were raised inside the House of Marchand with the love of both our parents and everyone employed there.

Life inside the House of Marchand appeared to be a happy one. Mother quickly learned French and became good friends with the older Marchioness Camille, who Lian and I affectionately referred to as Grandmother in secret. Since my twin sister and I were born illegitimately, we had no claim to the Marchand title or fortune. This went to my older half-brother, Alain, who by birthright became the true heir of the House of Marchand. Since our births, Alain loathed us for being the bastard offspring of our father. He took great pleasure in tormenting us and reminding us of place in society at every opportunity.

I recall one afternoon in particular when Lian and I were six and assisting the chambermaids with hanging the wash outside. Twelve year old Alain came striding up with a switch from a willow tree in hand as he came up behind me.

"You there! Yellow skin!" He sneered. Alain had a habit of referring to our skin tone as a sign of denigration. Everyone else admired it. The servants envied the creamy light tan of our flesh that complimented the Eurasian features of our faces, the dark brown eyes, and light brown hair that made us appealing and exotic in their eyes. The combination of Asian and French garnered their attention as they we constantly heard words like _beautiful, radiant, handsome, ethereal, _and _mysterious_ inside the House of Marchand. On the other hand, my half-sibling could care less. "You lazy, Chinaman! You've soiled the wash!"

Preparing to protest his observation, I felt the shove of Alain's hands on my back as I landed into the mud. Furious over our half-brother's assault, Lian charged at Alain but got knocked back by the assault of the Marchand heir's switch in his hand. Covering her body to shield my brother's blows, I raced toward my twin, blanketed her body with mine, and cried as I took each blow of the switch upon my back. Alain cackled with delight at his abuse before a rough hand grabbed his wrist and shoved him away.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The marquis's younger brother, Dr. Rene Marchand, pulled the switch away and slapped the young lord hard. I lifted my face up to see Alain cry as a red welt appeared on his cheek.

"Those half breeds dirtied the wash!" Alain argued. "Look!" He pointed to the splash of mud on the white linens. "I was punishing them for it!"

Dr. Rene folded his arms with a stern expression. "Seems to me like you're bullying your brother and sister!"

"THEY'RE NOT MY BROTHER AND SISTER!" The twelve year old shrieked. "THEY'RE BASTARDS!"

Another blow to the face sent Alain reeling. This time Dr. Rene struck him even harder. "Listen, you little impudent cur! Gao and Lian may not be of the same station as you but you will not mistreat them in any manner! I will be informing your father and grandmother of this!"

"Go ahead, uncle!" Alain challenged him. Tossing the switch to the ground, he marched back toward the house. "I'll make them pay for coming to the House of Marchand! Them and their whore of a mother!" We both wept as our older half sibling disappeared into the house. Dr. Rene scooped us up in his arms and brought us into his office.

As a well-respected local doctor, Dr. Rene Marchand cared very little in regards to his title and fortune. Serving a field medic during the Ashanti Uprising in 1900 and Bambatha Rebellion in 1906 as an ally for the British, he had treated soldiers who have been wounded in battle. He had returned to the House of Marchand and often would bring Lian and I a trinket from his time on the battlefield. Seating us both on the bed, he applied a wet cloth to our faces to wash off the bloody scratches and soothe the bruises administered by Alain.

"You both have to be smarter and stronger," the doctor told us in his native French tongue. "Alain is jealous of you both because you have the affection of both Marquis George and the Marchioness as well as the rest of the servants in the house. _Woaini._"

Dr. Rene did not speak fluent Mandarin but Mother taught him a few phrases that were a sign of affection and endearment. _Woaini_ was another way of saying _I love you_ to which my twin sister and I appreciatively reciprocated in unison.

"_Woaini."_

The French medic smiled. At thirty years old, the 5'10 with handsome European features, dark blond hair, and blue eyes, it surprised me that he still remained a bachelor. Lian boldly questioned him.

"Uncle?" She asked him. "What aren't you married?"

Grinning, he gave her a sweet peck on the forehead before answering. "I am married, _mon petit,_ to my work. Being a doctor keeps me very busy. I have no time for a wife."

"Is that why Mother and Father can't marry as well?" I asked him with my six year old curiosity getting the better of me.

Dr. Rene exhaled. "It's very complicated, Gao. Marquis George is titled lord and must marry someone who is equally titled. Alain's mother, Lady Isabelle, was a noblewoman who could only marry someone of your father's stature. Even though Lady Isabelle has passed on, it is expected that Marquis George marry someone of equal birth. Your mother, Yun, is a commoner and can only be your father's mistress. Therefore, she and the marquis can never wed."

Lian folded her arms and pouted. "But that's not fair! Mother and Father love each other! They should be able to get married!"

"I agree," Dr. Rene shrugged his shoulders. "However, there are rules and there are laws in place that we have to abide by. It's not always fair but we have to accept them."

"Is that why Alain hates us so much?" I glanced up at my uncle wondering. "He hates the fact that Father loves Mother and not Lady Isabelle?"

The doctor flinched and cocked his eyebrows. "Why do you say that, Gao?"

"I've heard the servants talking," I confessed. The truth is that my tiny frame allowed me to hide in various corners of the house and eavesdrop of private conversations. Though much of the servants' talk was adult in nature, I did pick up their perspective of Mother and Father's relationship.

Dr. Rene slightly nodded. "It's true. Lady Isabelle and Marquis George's marriage was not a happy one. Since their union was arranged, Lady Isabelle often left the House of Marchand to be with her friends while leaving their son in the hands of a governess. Alain grew up under the care of his nanny but remained fiercely loyal to his mother even after her death. The poor lad still thinks of Yun, Lian, and you as a threat to his fortune."

"But we're commoners," Lian said bluntly. "We have no right to any title. We're merely servants."

"Alain doesn't think so," said the doctor. "You both are far more intelligent than him and that scares him. That's why he's incredibly cruel. For now, I want you both to promise me that you will continue to outsmart him. You can speak both French and Mandarin. You're learning the skills necessary to be a servant which gives you a trade to survive in the real world. I want you look out for each other and to never be ashamed of your Eurasian appearance. You're unique, exotic, and special. It will be aid you in the end." He held his hands out for us to clutch them. "Promise me?"

We took each of his palms and held them tight with our tiny hands as we replied in unison. "We promise."

Gathering us up in his arms, our uncle kissed us on both cheeks and sent us our way. Keeping such a promise to him was something Lian and I were going to do.

Over the years, we honored Dr. Rene's promise. Even though Lian and I were trained as servants, Marquis George ensured that both my sister and I received the best education possible. Mastering the art of reading, writing and speaking in Mandarin and French, our tutors were surprised by our capabilities in learning English as well. In addition to academics, music teachers were brought in to have us learn the piano and violin. The marquis and marchioness displayed our accomplishments proudly as Mother beamed with delight at our incredible talent. Sadly, the sentiment was not shared by our older brother Alain.

The House of Marchand heir went out of his way to discredit myself and Lian. I remember one time when my twin and I had gone in to the music room after finishing our chores for the day to see Lian's violin shattered and the piano covered in honey and mud. Everyone including our father knew who the true culprit was but they all turned all blind eye to Alain's abuse simply because he was the marquis's male heir.

* * *

1914 arrived as the beginning of World War I occurred. The assassination of Archduke Ferdinand sparked the stirrings of global conflict as France became embroiled in war with Germany alongside our allies of Great Britain. Lian and I were thirteen at the time and Alain, nineteen. Our older sibling had escaped the enlisting due to our father's connections while the House of Marchand supported the French troops by holding fundraisers and sending supplies to the soldiers overseas. Food was rationed and budgeted wisely at the household that servants and its residents were grateful for any extra it of wine or meat that was given to us.

Sitting inside Marchioness Camille's bedchamber, our mother would style her hair while Lian and I finished cleaning her room so we could be the first to sit by her chair. The marchioness would read the latest news of the war in the newspaper and share the information with us.

"It's such a pity," the older woman would say. "Those German forces believing they will win this war. They underestimate the French and English."

"Grandmother?" Lian inquired while polishing her shoes. "What should happen if we lose the battle?"

The Marchioness pouted. "Pray that never happens, my sweet Lian." She held her arms out to us. "Now give your grandmother a kiss for luck that we will be victorious in battle."

Happily, we rushed into her arms as she embraced us. I stole a glimpse at Mother who smiled at the noblewoman who showed affection for her illegitimate grandchildren. The Chinese woman had suffered much during her time back in Huaxi but she learned to adapt to her new family and her role as a mistress to Marquis George. Through Marchioness Camille, she had found an unlikely comrade and that made her feel comfortable.

"I see Grandmama is now slumming it with the peasants!"

Nineteen year old Alain leaned against the doorframe of the marchioness's room with his arms folded and his contemptuous eyes staring at us from across the room. Dressed in an expensive Parisian suit, his handsome face only masked the wicked evil that lied hidden beneath.

Scowling in annoyance, Marchioness Camille folded her hands in disapproval of his remark. "Alain! There is no need to for your rudeness! As a young lord, you are to show respect for everyone who is living in this house…"

"And must I remind you, Grandmama, that it is going to MY house," he sneered. "Once I become Marquis of the House of Marchand, I shall be making some changes namely those two bastards that you've grown fond of and that whore of a mother of theirs!"

"Alain!" The Marchioness gasped. "Apologize to Lian and Goa and their mother at once!"

"NO!" Alain shouted. "This is my house! I stand by what I say! The marquis's bastards will be out on the street when I claim the title! There's nothing you can do about it!" Releasing a snort, our older brother left the room as a shocked Mother moved away from Grandmother to sit on her bed.

"Pay no attention to Alain," suggested the older woman to Mother. "Yun, you and your children will be provided for by George, I assure you. Alain may have a claim on the title and this house but not the entire Marchand fortune. I will talk to him to see about financing a nice cottage with some extra money to retire the rest of your days with."

"That would be wonderful, your Ladyship," Mother muttered. "However, Alain will make good on his threats. He's determined to get rid of us."

Marchioness Camille covered her lady's maid's hands with her own. "I promise that will never happen. Not while I'm alive."

Mother managed to show a smile but even then I knew that she still had apprehensions concerning Alain's threats. I then realized that my family could not rely on the House of Marchand for assistance. It was up to me to support my family.


	3. Chapter 3

The war waged on. Our uncle, Dr. Rene Marchand, had been called to Antwerp where German forces had invaded the area. We had not heard from him for six months until he was granted a reprieve during the summer of 1914 and brought along with him a wounded soldier by the name of Francois Dourmand.

I suppose my attraction to men became a bit of mystery to me during this time. My body had matured to the point that my brown tint of hair became more prominent, my wiry frame became bulkier, and the tone of my voice became deeper even at the age of thirteen.

Francois Dourmand was fascinating to me. Handsome Romanesque features, a mustache, green eyes, and curly auburn hair became really appealing to me. The moment he walked inside the lobby of the House of Marchand, I instantly became infatuated with the man. There was something mysterious about him that I found intriguing but I dared not confess these feelings due to the fact that homosexuality was illegal during this time and the threat of persecution and being ostracized from one's family would be too much to bear.

I kept such emotions suppressed yet I still managed to find myself sneaking around the household to catch a glimpse of the young soldier ever chance that I could. While studying the lessons of being both a valet and Master Butler, I stole a moment to take up a tray of tea from the kitchen for the wounded Francois up in his room. Wearing his dressing gown and reading a novel by Rousseau, I politely knocked on his door as I entered his chambers with the serving tray.

"Come in!" Francois announced.

I politely nodded as he set down his book on the mattress while I managed to place the tray of food on his lap. "Tea and pastries. Compliments of His Lordship," I informed him. The soldier grinned as the thanked me and eyed me with curiosity.

"You're Gao, aren't you?" He inquired. "The Eurasain?"

"Yes, my Lord," I replied. Even though Francois Dourmand was not a titled nobleman, it was customary to refer to all guests in such a fashion. Once again he smiled at me.

"Your French is impeccable," he said. "I've been informed by Dr. Rene that you speak Chinese as well?"

I nod in response. "My mother is Chinese. I'm sure you've met her. She's a lady's maid to Marchioness Camille. She taught me and my sister, Lian, how to speak in native Mandarin tongue as well as French."

His eyes examined me even further as I felt them looking at me up and down. "But from your appearance you're not completely Chinese. I can definitely see more of the French features in you."

"Thank you, my Lord," I commented. "It is true that my heritage is part French; hence, the combination of both my parents."

"Well it's quite a good match," laughed the soldier. "It makes you look more exotic and more handsome."

I blushed at his remark of calling me handsome. I never really internalized the compliments even when the servants referred to my appearance. I simply accepted the nature of my looks as something that God bestowed upon me. I never considered myself anything special.

"Thank you, my Lord." I managed to stutter.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen," I tell him.

"I can definitely see the ladies will be pining for you soon, Gao," giggled Francois Dourmand. "Your dashing looks are certainly going to attract a lot of attention."

I choose not to respond as my eyes catch the bandaged wound on his shoulder. I point to it and ask him. "Forgive me, my Lord, but did you get the wound from the battle?"

"That I did," said the man. "A German enemy caught me off guard and shot me in the shoulder. Dr. Rene brought me back to France to recuperate. The marquis has been so very generous with supporting the troops."

"We all are," I tell him. "Everyone here demonstrates their patriotism by praying for the safe return of our French soldiers."

"That's wonderful to hear," smiled Francois.

I decided to leave the man to eat his meal in peace as exit his bedchamber. A soft whisper behind me stops me as the wounded soldier called out to me.

"Oh Gao!" He signaled. "I hope to see you around. I would love to hear more about your Chinese culture, my friend."

I turn around to face him and shoot him a smile. "I would like that very much, sir." Pleased with my answer, I rush out the room and quietly shut the door. My stomach tumbles in knots as I think about Francois Dourmand and his gorgeous, handsome face. I'll admit I was smitten at the time due to some boyhood naivety but in my defense I didn't know any better. Racing down the hallway with a gleeful cheer on my face, I accidentally ran into Alain who wanted to strip away any joy from me.

"Out of my way, bastard!" Alain hissed. "What are you so smiling at?"

Determined for my older brother not to ruin my happy moment, I stood up to him. "I just served Soldier Dourmand! He's quite a courageous man and would love converse with me when he's feeling up to it!"

"You?" Alain snickered. "Interacting with a man of war? Preposterous! Why would you a bastard servant be of any interest to an experienced soldier like Francois Dourmand?"

I was not going to allow Alain to dampen my enthusiasm. "Perhaps he sees a friend in me. Perhaps he is not prejudiced by my upbringing and wants to know me more than just a servant. Perhaps I'm more interesting and intriguing to talk to than a silent house and a stack of books he's now consigned to read."

My half sibling snorted. "Or perhaps he has an unholy interest in you that might be looked on as vile?"

I flinched at his words. _Did Alain know of my secretive attraction to men? No, he couldn't possibly._ "Whatever…do you mean?"

"I know all about you, Gao!" The Marchand heir sneered. "I hate you and I despise you so I make it a point to know my enemies! I know that you're corrupt and evil! I know about the fancy boy that you are! How would your precious Francois Dourmand like to know that you are having impure thoughts about him? Unholy thoughts that shouldn't be coming from a thirteen year old boy?"

"I…I…I have no idea what you're assuming, Alain…" I protested. "I've done nothing…there's nothing that warrants such profane accusations…"

Grabbing my arm, my half sibling yanked me close so that his face was at level with mine. "Careful, little brother! One admittance to Father about your vileness and I'll make trouble for you and your bastard of a family. How are your sister and mother going to support themselves once they're on the street? They could always make money on their back…"

"BASTARD!" Rage consumed me. I shoved Alain back so hard he hit the floor. Surprised by my attack, the Marchand heir got up and began to charge at me. Alain was taller than me and easily could pummel me down but I prepared for his oncoming assault as he came closer. Raising his fist in air, I shut my eyes to ready myself for the blow. Then nothing.

Open my eyes up, I saw Dr. Rene grip Alain's wrist hard and kept his fist immobile. Pushing his nephew away from me, my uncle got in front of me and raised a finger at my older brother.

"You will not strike your brother, Alain!" Dr. Rene warned.

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" Alain shouted. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT BASTARD IS? THAT IMMORAL, UNHOLY CREATURE!"

"I won't let you slander him in front of me!" My uncle yelled. "Now, compose yourself as a young lord and leave! Unless you wish me to report to your father and your grandmother of your bullying toward your siblings?"

"Go ahead!" Alain challenged. "Maybe I'll make Father aware of his fancy boy of a bastard offspring that he has!"

Without warning, Dr. Rene struck him hard against the cheek. Alain grabbed his cheek and cried.

"HOW DARE YOU! I'M THE LORD OF THIS HOUSE!"

"Say anything slanderous of Gao and I will report your cowardice to every elite person of French society," informed the doctor. "I'm sure the scandal of Marquis George pulling his connections to prevent his only heir from entering the war would be most beneficial. You'll be excluded and become the laughingstock of every high society circle in the country. Plus, you're not the only person who knows of family secrets. I have information about you Alain that would make your face turn scarlet. Cross me and I will release it to the public and trust me when I say that no one will accept you ever in society."

Alain clutched his bruised cheek and whimpered. "This isn't over!" He darted off as my uncle turned to face me.

An angry look exhibited on Dr. Rene's face. "Come with me!" His tone sounded irate but I said nothing to protest and followed him down the stairs to his private office that he used to examine his patients or to conduct his medical research. Shutting the door behind me, he pointed to a chair and gestured for me to sit. I sat near an open stool and listened. "Gao, I want you to be honest with me. Is what Alain said true? Have you been having thoughts and feelings concerning the same gender?"

His question caught me off guard. True, I have been experiencing confused emotions in reference to the same sex but to openly admit it to my uncle made me humiliated and ashamed. I said nothing.

"I see," he remarked after a long pause by me. Pulling up a swivel chair near his desk, he sat down in front of me and took my both my hands into his own. "Gao, I understand that you're growing up and learning about yourself. You're still unsure of your feelings and that is normal…"

"Normal?" I exclaimed as I stood up from the stool. "These feelings I have are vile and immoral. Uncle, you know that I shouldn't be exhibiting such thoughts. It's profane and a sin against God!"

Placing his hands on my shoulders, he sat me down. "Gao, you are not vile or immoral. You were born different under the grace of God. He does not make mistakes. He placed us here on Earth with obstacles and challenges that we must endure and deal with to the best of our ability. He taught us also forgiveness and to always be kind and compassionate to others. You're not a mistake. You're loved by Him, your family, and especially me."

Though his inspiring words echoed in my ears, it did little ease my discomfort. "You make it sound so easy, uncle, but you know that if this is to be what I am I'm going to face many hardships and possibly imprisonment. Being this thing is illegal according to the eyes of the law, remember?"

Dr. Rene sighed. "I know it all too well, Gao. I should because I'm like you."

My voice stammered for a bit upon hearing his confession. "You're…you're a homosexual?"

He nodded. "Yes, Gao. I am. Your father has an inkling but I've kept the secret a long time. I won't lie to you, Gao. The road is a lonely one for us but whatever path you choose, don't feel ashamed of it and always know you have family who loves and supports you. I'm here for you."

Casting my eyes down, I slowly lift my face up to glance at him. I ball my hands into tight fists. "You make it sound so easy, uncle. However, I can't be this person! I can't!" I leaped from the stool, moved passed him, and sprinted outside the door of his office. I could still hear him calling my name as I raced toward the tall fields of the Marchand estate.

"Gao! Gao!"

I ignored Dr. Rene Marchand's cries. I simply had to get away.

* * *

Lying in the tall grass of the Marchand estate, I gazed up into the sky and watched as the sun set over the horizon and the half-moon rose up to illuminated the evening heavens. I don't know how long I had spent concealed in the green foliage of the hills before forcing myself back up and heading back toward the house. Each bare toe tickled the prickly soft blade of greenery and dirt as I darted down the small inclination and passed the upraised stem of flowers near the stream that led up the hidden part of the manor. Silently tiptoeing though the field, my ears pricked up a bit to hear some giggling and bizarre sounds coming from the other side of the flower bed.

Locating a nearby oak tree, I hid myself behind the trunk and peeked out to see two figures rolling around in the field. Instantly, my eyes recognized the two strangers in the darkness and I immediately gasped. It was my soldier Francois Dourmand and my brother Alain and they were naked.

Horrified by their lascivious actions, I quietly tried to sneak away but my barefoot got hooked upon a stray root of the oak tree and I tripped and fell face first on to the dirt ground. The large thud of my body must have interrupted their indiscretion for Alain and Francois separated from each other and targeted their anger at me. Alain aimed his finger in my direction. I got up and ran.

"HE'S SEEN US!" Alain screeched toward Francois. "CATCH HIM!"

My thirteen year old legs tried to outrun the pair but the French soldier proved to be much more athletic. Grabbing the back of my collar, he pulled at the material of my shirt and jerked me down. I slammed into the field as Alain kicked the side of my stomach and caused me to collapse to the ground. Then with the heavy weight of his knees on my chest, he punched my face and split my lip and caused a trickle of blood to run down my mouth.

Francois face glimpsed his lover with concern. "What do we do with him? He's seen us! He'll tell your father!"

"No he won't," answered my half sibling. "I'll make sure he doesn't say a word!" Alain's eyes was nothing but evil as he stared at me with a mocking, sinister appearance. Gripping at my shirt, he tore it open.

The rest of this tragic ordeal I blocked out. All I could remember was staring into the blackened night and leaving my body as the rest of me screamed for help but got no rescuer to save me. Then the violation began.


End file.
